


Revolution of the Inevitable

by Hymn



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Abuse, BIG time underage for the main pairing, Cheating, F/M, JUST, Multi, Pedophilia, Princess Venus - Freeform, Silver Millennium Era, Slurs, Underage Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, a lot of headcanon i think, all of the angst, all the wrong and bad things ok, and also PLEASE tell me if there is something specific i need to tag for, artemis also winds up in a pretty awful sexual realtionship with venus' mother??, artemis pov, basically that is what it is ok, but also underage for incestual non-con, but venus' childhood is not a happy place in this, drabble fic series, forgive me for this, problematic language, sex for manipulation, there is a HUGE age gap here, this shit is so not ok why did i write this omg, this whole child soldier stuff is messed up ok, venus' parents are THE WORST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-07
Updated: 2006-07-07
Packaged: 2019-03-12 12:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13547112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymn/pseuds/Hymn
Summary: Venus is inevitable, no matter the difficulties Artemis encounters along the way.





	Revolution of the Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> A series of drabble prompts from sm_monthly, please do NOT read this if it's gonna make you uncomfortable. Just another reminder for some of the trigger warnings: pedophilia, cheating, sex as manipulation, underage non-con, underage abuse, underage relationship, incest, incestual non-con, problematic language, use of the word bitch, etc, also i personally DO NOT CONDONE this relationship at all because COME ON this is fucked up and artemis is like 100x older than she is this is SO MESSED UP !!!
> 
> Enjoy???

**1\. Mentor.**

He meets her when she is a tiny thing, no higher than his knee, eyes like molten gold and hair like soft dreams, baby roundness and innocence. He kneels before her.

_And I left Mau for this?_

The mother watches him, slyly, from her glittering throne, sprawled like sin, and the father rests a possessive hand upon his wife’s forearm. Artemis senses trouble, and it’s no wonder the Queen sent him here, to take care of this leader of war, rather than the leader of the kingdom.

“Hello, Princess Venus,” he says, then murmurs, “Guess we’re stuck with each other.”

 

**2\. Midnight.**

Her parents do not rock her to sleep at night when she wakes screaming and flinching from shadows. It is Artemis that wakes in the room across the hall where he was placed (to be close at hand to his charge, he is told, and if its really sly insult, he thinks it wasted, and does not care.)

He picks her up, and despite her little girl roundness, she has a lot of sharp angles when she’s terrified and fighting danger she can’t see. He holds her tight until she calms, murmuring soft words. Soon, she sleeps, though Artemis cannot.

 

**3\. Childhood.**

“You look lonely.” Artemis glances up from where he is playing with the little Princess. The queen is slouching against the doorframe, an invitation in the seductive curve of her hips, the arch of her slender back. She smiles, slow, a pouting, sin-red suggestion in her pale face, below her sleepy eyes.

“Perhaps,” her voice curls, as though it is a sleek beast prowling through the air to rub against him, “I might…keep you company?”

The princess watches, too perceptive, and Artemis declines, though he is aching hard, because she is still a child. “Thank you, but we’re playing dolls.”

 

**4\. Lost.**

Artemis thinks the Princess may well be nothing more than an anomaly. She doesn’t talk, even though she is now past his knee, and old enough to have proper lessons. 

He doesn’t let it stop him however; just teases her, mercilessly, because despite the fact that she is still round-faced and prone to tears, there’s intelligence hidden in wide eyes, and he is tired of the never-ending sunlight and the twisting politics and daily intrigue of Venusian court-life. 

She does not talk, and Artemis thinks that he hates her, until one day she opens her mouth and says, clearly, “Artemis.”

 

**5\. Music.**

“Stop.”

Venus does, and Artemis breathes a sigh of relief from his corner, where he is grooming himself. His ears twitch in pain: his little princess will never be a good singer. The instructor sends her back to her room, and Artemis trots after; once they are inside he sprawls, human, on her floor, and lets her crawl all over him, like a giant obstacle course.

“I like to sing,” she says, suddenly. “It’s like being a bird; sometimes, I think I can fly.”

She is beautiful, so he scoops her up; swings her through the air, like a bird. 

 

**6\. Failure.**

Artemis wishes that he could protect her forever, but he cannot even keep her childhood safe. She is seven when he comes back from his reluctantly undertaken political duties to find her huddled in a corner of her room, blank eyed and pale against the bruises on her wrist, her dress tied crooked.

He falls to his knees before her, and rails that he has been brought to this, helpless, and if he could, he would leave and forget this place. He cannot, and instead he holds her in his arms, and cries the tears she seems unable to shed.

 

**7\. Fight.**

In a way, it was a beginning just as much as it was an ending. 

Though it takes her a little while to stop shivering whenever she is anywhere around her father, and it takes longer still for Artemis to stop contemplating the intricacies of torture, they are reborn, perhaps for the better. They have put childhood and reluctance to bed, and have awoken bold and determined, desperate for strength and knowledge and protection. The Princess is growing, prematurely, and not into a flower, but a deadly blade.

It is, undoubtedly, necessary. Still, Artemis cannot think it worth its price.

 

**8\. Disguise.**

Artemis has a suite of rooms down the hall, and smirks and is wicked and teases the queen with sly glances because sex, he has been forced to learn, is power, especially the promise of it.

Venus – because she is Venus, Artemis knows; she is her people – is a bright, shining ball of glory, who dances like sunlight and shadow through pillars of spun glass, and walks among the city streets of her people, learning them. 

She smiles for those outside, and is beautiful, and when she’s inside, alone with her bone-weary, tired guardian, she drops it, and is perfect.

 

**9\. Purple.**

One of the maid’s has made a wreath of purple flowers, and they look startling and too bold in her gilt hair, but she wears them with a beaming, happy smile; rosy cheeked and alive. 

“You look like the get of Bacchus,” Artemis says, teasingly. She makes a gesture that is _definitely_ not proper, and he twitches in surprise, messing up the report that he is writing. “Wench,” he claims, accusingly.

“Nonsense,” she says. “You must be getting senile. I’m a _princess_.” She enunciates the word mockingly, and gives him a saucy look.

He swallows his laugh, and reiterates: “Wench.”

 

**10\. Pure.**

She goes out at night, slips from her room like a secret dream sliding between waking moments, and Artemis follows her, discreetly, a small white shape dashing shadow-quiet through the night, luminous eyes ever watchful.

She goes, because it is expected of her - Venusian Blood-Heir - and because she seeks to smother the stains her father has drenched her in, bruises on her soul.

And Artemis, crouched between a bookcase and the wall, ignoring the sounds coming from the bed, despairs, because he would do anything, even this, to give her peace. He feels caught, tangled in invisible puppet strings, helpless.

 

**11\. Liar, Liar.**

At night, Artemis looks up at his canopied bed, and tries not to think. He is afraid to think, because if he thinks, he may think of _that_ , which would be bad, because if he thinks of _that_ , then there will be no going back.

He would be lost, swept away, left shaken in the storm of _that_ , and he can’t, is afraid to - clings to his morals, his dignity, like a drowning man. 

He has always been bad at lying to himself, denying himself, and if he thinks of _that_ , it will not stay at just the thinking.

 

**12\. Wine.**

It is her first ball, and she is resplendent and slender and soft in her gown, young but sensual, innocent but old. Her smile is sweet and shining, and her eyes hide secrets like a canker. 

She is false, and Artemis trembles at her side, her arm in his, and wonders at her strength. She curtsies at her father, and her mask never slips; she exchanges sharp smiles with her mother, and her poise never falters.

Later, Artemis leaves her, to drink coherency away, because he is so _fucked_ , and there is nothing he can do about it, but pray.

 

**13\. Betrayal.**

“Artemis.” 

She is still beautiful and vixen eyed, dark hair piled intricately on her head. He stands, bows, and waits, the fine hairs on his neck prickling. He does not need feline senses to know this woman is dangerous.

“I have seen the way you look at my daughter.” Artemis sways, and she could be his executioner. She smiles, coy. “It is because she reminds you of me, yes?”

And though her words are oblivious, her eyes know, and Artemis is backed into a corner. His voice is but a whisper, “Of course.”

He takes her hand, and kisses it.

 

**14\. Death.**

Venus looks at him in the morning and he is stripped raw. Somehow, she _knows_. He cannot summon a smile for her, just stands there, pale, and wants to be sick when she smiles at him, bright as a star.

It is _false_ , and she has never before been false with him.

It makes him want to claw his heart out, messy and violent, and fling it far, far away, or shove it down her throat and hope it gives her indigestion, because his heart feels like it is poisoning itself. 

He does not, however; he swore to protect her.

 

**15\. Smut.**

When he is with the queen, he imagines it is her daughter, because he is already a broken man, has already been brought down to his knees; he cannot go any lower. Fantasizing about the girl he loves does not seem so bad, in comparison.

When he crawls between the queen’s pale thighs, puts his cat-tongue to use, he pretends that it is Venus sprawled wanton before him, open and somber-bright, real and tragic, with a smile that is a small death in itself.

When he thrusts inside, he imagines it is his little girl; he cries when he comes.

 

**16\. Madness/Insanity.**

She is fourteen, and there are obligations to fulfill. 

Artemis watches, an outsider, as she takes the simple lessons he taught her as a child - swordsmanship and magic, tactics and oratory – and melds it together into a snarling, fierce casing of leader and warrior and figurehead. 

She becomes a soldier.

It is hard to watch, because Artemis is not there to kiss her wounds better, both the physical and the not. She deflects him with a smile and tease, and it is like she is only half there.

When this happens Artemis thinks, perhaps, that he will go insane.

 

**17\. Travel.**

They go to the moon, and it is like salvation. He is free from the queen’s clutches; free from Venusian politics; free from having to watch the hungry look in Venus’ father’s eyes. 

Here, on the moon, where the magic is so thick anything seems possible, and he is to be reunited with one from his home planet, maybe he can get some peace, and maybe he can look upon his charge without feeling like his heart is breaking, because she does not need his protection here – hasn’t really for a long time, but maybe now he can be convinced.

 

**18\. Addiction.**

When he hears that they are on Earth, he doesn’t think before he follows after her. _Her_ , not _them_ , because when the moment comes, it is not Serenity he thinks of, or the Senshi as a unit; it is his little girl that consumes all his reason.

And he was foolish, he realizes now, as he storms into the garden to see her there, sending sly looks at the lead general; foolish to ever think he could eradicate her from his heart.

She is worse than addiction, because addictions you can break. Artemis, furious, finds that he cannot quit her.

 

**19\. Tragic Flaw.**

Artemis knows his green eyes must be blazing, and red must be riding high on his cheekbones as he fumes at his charge within the safety of her suite. He is so furious, because he cannot decide whether he hates or loves this impossible girl more, but knows either way, she owns him.

She glares back at him, haughty and smug, and she couldn’t look more the seductress if she tried. “Marvelous first impression on the Earthians, Artemis. Ever so impressive.”

“Bitch,” he mutters, because they have always reduced each other to this. Her lips twitch, and he gives in.

 

**20\. “Dreams that come true can be as unsettling as those that don’t.” – Brett Butler, _Knee Deep in Paradise_.**

Her mouth is against his before he realizes it, and as soon as he realizes he is across the room from her. He punches the wall, because _it is all over now_ , and he is scared. 

When she speaks, she is a soldier, protecting herself. “Do you miss my mother?”

Artemis chokes, his knees buckle and he barely catches himself. “No,” he hisses. “Oh, Goddess no.” 

“Okay,” she says, and she is happy and frightened, too, and that is possibly sexier than anything else. He feels like he is falling, and this time he cannot catch himself. Doesn’t want to.

 

**21\. "Your Hope," by The Calling.**

Artemis sits up, naked and in bed. Venus is in the bed with him, also naked, and Artemis puts his head in his hands, and groans. A small, callused hand smoothes across his back, and he shudders.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything. Nothing. This? I don’t know. I just know we’re damned - fucked.” He looks at her from between his fingers. “You’re fifteen.”

She smiles at him. “You’re an idiot. Do you regret any of it?”

He thinks about it, about the tragedies; the joy; the anger; the sweet pain. Says, “No. Not a moment.”

“Then what’s the problem?” she laughs.

 

**22\. Late.**

Later, when they’re okay, she says, “You’re a pervert.” 

Artemis tilts her face up, nubile and sweet, and kisses her lips to quiet her. She tastes of honey and cream, teases and sharp, beautiful laughter. She tastes wonderful.

He stops, and she is panting, her eyes dark. She grins. “That just proves you’re a pervert, you realize.”

She’s right, of course. Artemis raises an eyebrow and pokes her side. “It’s not my fault you were born so late, little Princess.” He smirks at her wickedly. “I’ve always said you were slow.”

Venus shrieks and chases him, laughing, through the room.


End file.
